


“A Rose for Akechi” - William Faulkner (1930)

by Anonymous



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Kidnapping, M/M, Murder
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-05 23:01:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14628843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: SPOILERS FOR NOVEMBER AND DECEMBER! The one time Goro Akechi wants something all to himself and his cursed shitty hands lead him straight to the chaos hell circus.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Akechi kidnapping Akira for the kink meme a la [here](https://personakinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/993.html?thread=740065)

Akira doesn’t feel so good. 

Maybe the drugs take a while to kick in. When Prosecutor Niijima had been interrogating him he’d felt pretty good. Good enough that he was convinced that it was just water or something in the syringes meant to invoke a placebo effect. However there’s no way that was possible now.

The ground is spinning under him. The table’s wobbling, the chair isn’t solid. Everything before him is fuzzy. At least he had most of his wits about him when Prosecutor Niijima was questioning him. His part in this operation was over.

It’s like being at the top of a ride whose sole purpose is to drop you. Sitting there waiting for the dreadful end but not knowing when it’s coming. According to Futaba if everything went to plan it would just be the guard and him alone here for a few minutes before Sae came back. 

Soon, much too soon for Futaba to have run through everything with her, the doorknob turns. 

The door swings open. In steps Goro Akechi keeping his face perfectly blank and Akira’s heart sinks. 

With his last moments he prays for the rest of the Phantom Thieves.

***

Today’s the day.

A very important day and since this morning Goro’s plan for the day had completely flipped. It’s not a good feeling. 

The change of plan isn’t completely without warning. It’s a fantasy he’s harboured for a while. For whatever reason, perhaps because hell has frozen over, he’s decided to seize the day. 

Standing before the door he slowly breathes in. Holds for three seconds. Exhales evenly. Go time.

In one fluid motion he plucks the gun off the guard and shoots the guard in the face. Before the guard hits the floor Goro walks to Akira. 

“Don’t look here. Don’t make any noise,” he says, brusquely turning Akira’s chair so he’s facing the corner. 

It might have bothered him if he had any room to think but he doesn’t, and he’s gotten real good at packing away his feelings for later. Picking up the guard by the collar he slams his head against the table where Akira was sitting and lets go. The blood splatters and then pools as intended - now for Akira.

Goro doesn’t have the keys to Akira’s cuffs, he curses under his breath. This will take much longer than ideal.

The second he tilts Akira even a bit Akira’s head lolls heavily to the side and Goro curses again. He glares daggers at the needles scattered on the floor because it seems like Akira is going to be useless during this ordeal.

Fucking asshole. Needs everyone to do everything for him. Idiot friends threw him down here to die. Better off dead. 

His heart seizes violently, cutting off those thoughts. His fingers sting at the pain. 

No. No matter what he can’t leave Akira here. 

Gently he tilts the chair onto its side, one hand cupping Akira’s face so he won’t hit his head on the ground. He then slides the chair out from Akira’s arms and back.

At this point his body moves on autopilot as he rips Akira’s shoes off then shoves his knees to his chest and pulls his cuffed hands over the tips of his toes. So his arms are at least in front of him. 

Goro has gotten Akira’s arms looped back to his front but then starts wriggling away from him and god dammit he should have figured Akira would struggle. 

“Akechi… Hurts…” Akira groans, twisting in his hold.

“I thought I told you to shut up.” Goro says, fingers twitching.

He undoes his tie and knots it around Akira’s mouth, his heartbeat a steady timer ticking the seconds down. He’ll explain later. Everything _later_. In the meanwhile he can’t have Akira fucking this up. Has half a mind to take it out on pigs who beat Akira up as well.

Finally Akira’s as ready as he’ll ever be. 

“Come on,” Goro whispers as holds Akira up on wobbly feet and his charge is squirmier than ever. 

A million worries flood his mind. What if he’s exacerbating Akira’s injuries? What if Akira sustains permanent damage from not being treated in time? Goro snarls. This is going terribly.

Kicking open the door he trudges out… 

And he’s met with Sae looking right at him.

***

The phone buzzes to life in her hand. _“Sae Niijima.”_

 _“I am the Phantom Thief Alibaba.”_ The distorted voice continues. _“Goro Akechi is evil. He is going to kill an innocent child in cold blood.”_

It’s… A lot to take in after that interrogation session. The metaverse, a traitor, Makoto. Even worse is that everyone around her has made it very clear her presence in this case is not wanted. Sae turns around and walks back to the interrogation room.

Then another voice comes through the phone.

_“He stole the guard’s gun, killed him and then himself. How about that?”_

Cold dread trickles down her spine. She knew nothing good could be happening in that room, but to go as far as murder.

_“So no one will know if it gets a little violent in there.”_

Preposterous. Sick. Mockery and disrespect of the idea of justice. With each word that Alibaba says her heart speeds up. The clacking of her shoes echoes in the hallway.

It’s been a long time since she’s felt like this, fighting for her life to protect others. Since she’s felt alive. 

The interrogation room is close now just a few more steps and she’ll be at the end of the hallway - please heaven and the stars above don’t let her be too late.

Suddenly there’s a deafening slam echoing in the hall. The door opens and her heart plummets like an anchor. 

For a moment she stands numb, eyes wide as time moves in slow motion. The door slowly swings back shut before an immaculately polished shoe kicks it back open.

Out hobbles Goro Akechi supporting the brunt of Akira’s weight. Akira’s eyes are glassy and it appears Akechi has gagged Akira with his tie.

She locks eyes with Akechi.

The phone in her hand buzzes once again. _“Goro Akechi is a murderer. Stop him if you don’t want the truth to die.”_

_“Save Akira.”_

Time starts again and Sae’s jaw drops. _Oh no._

She throws her bag down and dives into a sprint. For a split second Akechi’s eyes widen comically and she latches onto that sight. Akira’s innocence, the Phantom Thieves’ good intentions - she isn’t certain about those.

That look in Akechi’s eyes, the look of a child that still has a fear of god and their parents in their soul, the look of a child that’s been caught in the act. That’s something Sae knows like the back of her hand. 

“Goro Akechi!” she bellows, charging at him. 

He hobbles slightly faster and swivels Akira around on his shoulders to cover his front, like a shield. If he thinks that’ll stop her he’s got another thing coming. 

Her form is sloppy in the process - she’d never hear the end of it from her kickboxing teacher if they could see her now, but she gets the job done. Stomping a foot down she plants it firm behind Akechi’s ankles. Then grabs his forehead and shoves with all her might, swivelling her whole torso into it. 

Akechi goes down like a rock, Akira’s (dead, she winces) weight contributing to the effort for sure. 

Breathing out a sigh of relief, Sae reaches for Akira’s still form. It doesn’t look like he’s been shot but he looks dire. Of the two giant problems in front of her, if she can get Akira treated in time she figures that comes first.

Before she can grab Akira the entire hallway pulses. 

Then the storm of ages comes barrelling through the underground chamber, blowing her to the opposite wall. Squinting through the gale force winds she sees little flashes. 

Black and blue spill over Akechi, swallowing him up until there’s no trace of his daily professional wear and he’s dressed as some sentai villain. 

“What…?” Akechi utters as a helmet encases his head. Right before his face is covered she sees a flash of terrible ugly fury.

What’s happening before her eyes can’t be real but she can’t let it end here. Sae shoves herself off the wall and makes another go at Akechi. This time she’s stopped by the abrupt materialisation of a black and white monster and something stirs in her mind. 

_That world_

The monster wields a huge sword and blocks her. Behind the monster she watches as Akechi calmly gets up like he wasn’t thrown to the floor, tosses Akira over his shoulder like he weighs nothing. 

“You have a lot to explain,” he growls at Akira. It’s the last thing Sae gets before he walks off.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The amount of trouble Akira got himself into seemed inversely related to the amount he spoke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I headcanon Akira as being cosmically dumb when it comes to acting in his own best interests. Also screaming at myself for making this fic chaptered but i’m so into this idea ><

It’s odd thinking this is probably how the rest of the thieves are living. Knowing the truth behind the suicide. Trying not to let it show in their actions.

It’s big enough news that after a day even Goro finds himself thinking ‘oh that happened’ and wondering how to add it to his general banter before remembering the mess that was the twentieth and his direct involvement in the news.

When he comes home he finds Akira sitting on the floor watching TV halfway through a pack of mentaiko monja jagariko. He’s eating them like a hamster, though Goro supposes that’s his fault for keeping him in handcuffs.

The doctor said Akira wouldn’t be properly awake for a few days. That thought echoes in his head as he stares at Akira.

He’s wearing his pyjamas. Clearly he couldn’t get his cuffed hands through the sleeves so they’re just limp at his sides with Akira showing off a little midriff whenever he lifts his arms.

“I made dinner.” Akira says, continuing to look at the TV.

He doesn’t remember the last time he did any grocery shopping. 

“Are those any good?” Goro asks flatly. This is his apartment and he doesn’t recall that TV being plugged in, purchasing any kind of package for said TV, having ingredients to make a dinner, the list goes on. 

A cursory glance at his previously nonexistent media setup reveals: A game console he’d been gifted at some point, hooked to his now plugged in TV. YouTube presumably installed on it today, now playing tutorials of how to escape from handcuffs.

“Kinda stale.” Akira shoves another into his mouth anyway.

Goro chooses not think about what Akira watching tutorials on how to escape means.

“They’re two years old. I was meaning to try them.”

“Oh.” Akira halts mid stick.

There’s a moment where Akira looks up at him, jagariko held between his small teeth and full bottom lip. Bruises look like blush on his cheeks and his bound hands held demurely to his chest. 

A spike of rage flares through his blood. Akira reliably inspired all kinds of chaotic emotions in him, mostly anger. For the umpteenth time today he’s struggling to come up with reasons why he brought Akira to his flat.

Akira tilts his head back and cronches the snack down with a snap of his mouth.  
“Also the bath should still be warm.”

“Pardon?”

Akira has to turn his whole body to set the jagariko on the coffee table.

“The bath.” He says blankly. “Covered it up to keep the heat in though.”

Goro opens his mouth then quickly shuts it. It’s his flat, Akira’s his…. Guest. Manners are a moot point in this situation.

“Thank you,” he says quietly.

Dinner is colourful. 

Years of TV appearances and proactively keeping up with the latest trends had filled his fridge and pantry with all kinds curiosities. A lot of which he hadn’t the time to get to in between posting pictures of himself at trendy pop ups in Tokyo.

Curiosities that now covered his table fully prepared.

He can’t say he really cares for how any of it tastes but at least Akira’s enjoying it and he’s clearing out pantry space. Akira holds a bottle of clear iced latte, like a hamster.

Goro narrows his eyes. “You’ve been awfully sweet today.”

Akira looks up, bottle an inch from his lips. “I’m always sweet.”

His hand curls into a fist under the table. “How did you get out of the bedroom?” 

That morning Akira’s cuffs had been padlocked to a long chain padlocked to the bedroom doorknob. Everything sharp had been taken out of the room he was certain of it. 

Akira’s face goes red and he mumbles something about being a phantom before taking a long sip of coffee. 

Goro rises from his chair and stalks over to Akira. 

“I know how atrocious your behaviour is.” He says matter of fact, gently cupping Akira’s chin to force eye contact. As usual a mistake on his behalf as Akira looks up with big grey eyes just a second away from batting his eyelashes. 

“And I saw how much you enjoyed trashing valuables in Sae’s palace.” He continues, lightly stroking Akira’s cheek with his thumb.

Then he gives a little squeeze. “So. Are you going to be an honest boy?” 

Akira withers in on himself and Goro squeezes harder, keeping his face still. 

“There was some string and a clasp in the desk.” Akira mumbles.

Goro lets go and his hand hangs limply at his side. “Oh is that all?”

Akira nods. 

Goro walks back to chair and heaves a sigh. His cheeks ache terribly. Pressing his fingers and slowly kneading them it dawns on him that he’s probably been smiling at Akira this whole time. The worries come in hard and fast. Akira must think him a mad man. Maybe he should take another media break. God he’s so fucked up. 

“I apologise” Goro sighs again, weary. “It’s been a long day.”

“Bath?” Akira offers.

“Sure.”

Akira hops off the chair. “Lemme go take the cover off.”

Oh right, Goro pinches the bridge of his nose hard. This idiot country hick boy.

He rushes to the bathroom after him.

“Akira,” he says weakly. “This is Tokyo the bath has a re-heat switch.”

Akira gapes at him, clutching the tarp he’d been using as a cover. “That’s amazing!” 

“It’s there,” Goro points. 

Showering is a blur and there’s so much steam in the small room. The bathtub had completely escaped his notice since he moved in. It seemed like such a waste of time. However the waste of water would be more heinous here. 

Goro resigns himself to spending some quality time in the bath. 

Oblivious to Akira holding his phone in the living room and repeating the same steps.

The bath is nice, but Goro finds he can’t enjoy it. One, there’s no clock in the bathroom. 

When he’s alone in the flat which is all the time it doesn’t matter. His head is empty, it doesn’t belong to him, he might as well be doing nothing all the time.

Akira’s presence in the flat, just knowing he’s there amplifies everything. What is and isn’t in his head, what he is and isn’t doing. 

An honest effort to relax in the bath was made. Goro gets up and pulls the plug. 

“You’re wearing my underwear.” He blurts out upon returning to his room and finding Akira on the bed. 

Akira glares at him and once again Goro finds himself making concessions in his own apartment. 

“Nevermind of course you are.” He says waving a hand. Going to his briefcase he pulls out the bag he got from the doctor. “The doctor said this should be applied to your wounds. They also provided a painkiller if you want it.”

Akira shakes his head.

Goro looks to the end table for the string and clasp. Located next to the pile of padlocks and chain he notes dourly.

“You lost the key didn’t you?”

Never had it. In the original plan there wasn’t a need for it. Goro bites his tongue.

“Must have gotten lost in all the confusion,” he replies cheerfully. A thought strikes him as he picks the lock and works the handcuffs off of Akira. “Why didn’t you leave?”

“Tired.” Akira says immediately.

Goro tentatively tugs at the pyjama top and Akira pulls it right off. Everything’s faded now, not raw and red like before but it’s still awful to see. Nothing can be done about the bruises at this point, the ointment’s only for the scrapes and cuts. 

“Allow me to spread this where you can’t reach?”

Akira nods. “Thanks.”

It’s small but it’s like a mini sun has bloomed in his heart. Much like the feeling that drove him to act for himself for once on that dark night. 

So Goro goes ahead with tending to Akira. A completely foreign experience, he never envisioned he’d be into this. Someone has to care for Akira though, seeing as he clearly doesn’t care for himself. 

Goro huffs out a bitter laugh. That was rich coming from him.

“Hm?”

“Don’t mind me.” Goro says. “About what you said earlier; you’ll leave as soon as you’re not tired?”

He punctuates the statement by spreading a generous amount of ointment over a particularly deep wound. Predictably, Akira tenses. 

When he doesn’t reply Goro continues. “If I keep you tired will you stay?”

A second later his heart seizes and stops. What is even happening? What is coming out of his mouth there he goes thinking too much again. Stupid.

“Akechi?”

“Yes?” Goro responds cheerfully, snapping out of the mental self-flagellation. Miraculously not screaming and throwing the tube to the side, if not holding the tube just a bit too hard.

“No one knows I’m here,” Akira says in a tone that implies he’s still thinking about it. “I can’t do anything soon. Um… You showed me my death certificate earlier...”

“Iunno you just seem sorta tense.” Akira shrugs.

Absolutely no sense of self-preservation. 

“So you’re telling me there’s no consequences for whatever happens to you here?” Goro says thoughtfully, really putting his exaggerated detective prince TV voice into it. “Goodness me I forgot.” 

Dropping the tube he grabs Akira’s throat and swings him back, pinning him to the mattress. The ache in his cheeks returns with a vengeance, drawing his attention to the vicious smile alien yet at home on his face. Mentally he thinks of killing the nerves in his face, blanking it. 

“Did you not get enough at the police station?” Goro says lightly but his hand squeezes harder. Akira’s eyes water at the pressure but maintains eye contact to his credit. “You show any less of a limit and I’ll fall harder.” 

He lets go, his mind feels hazy. He hates it when it gets like this. “Choose a safeword the next time you want a beating,” he says wearily then picks the tube of ointment up. “Now let's get back to those wounds and go to bed. You need it.” 

“Goro?”

Goosebumps erupt all over his skin. Turning back to his ward Goro’s shoulders jolt as he finds Akira right in his face. 

“Fall harder?” Akira says, eyes wide and head tilted. Maybe a hint of a smile.

Goro sees red.

***

Heaven above willing the remaining Phantom Thieves are more centred today. Hopefully finding something to take strength in. Even just being in a tangentially similar position Sae’s had to force herself to go on.

The night of the twentieth ranks up there in “Worst Nights Sae Niijima has had in her Life”.

Makoto and Wakaba’s daughter had been beside themselves when Sae arrived at Leblanc that night. After giving her account of what happened in the underground that dark night she suggested that they meet up in a few days.

_“It’s our fault. We should have come up with a better plan.”_

Who knew a freak thunderstorm in the area would take out all the power in Leblanc and the Sakura household? Frankly Sae thought it was commendable that Futaba whipped out backup power and internet as fast as she did. 

A round of sullen faces greets Sae as she steps into Leblanc. It’s a moot point but she tries anyway.

“How is everyone?”

“We have a name.” Futaba states, business-like. “Masayoshi Shido has a palace but we haven’t found a way into it.”

Sae frowns. They don’t have a choice but they really shouldn’t have to push themselves so hard. “Figures. He stands to benefit from all the deaths that have occurred recently.” 

Crossing her arms, Sae leans back against the counter. “Akechi’s come in to the office once since the twentieth. Chatted with me about nothing then left.” She groans, “he didn’t have to. I think he was just doing it to be an asshole.” 

“Only came in once?” Futaba says. “He’s been spending a ton of time in Nagatacho.” She gasps and her eyes go wide. “Oh shit that’s probably where Shido’s palace is!”

Entering ‘Diet Building’ in the navigator for Shido brings a hit. 

“We still don’t know what the keyword for the palace though.” Yusuke says.

Ryuji squirms and grunts. Sae’s eyes dart to him. “You thought of something?”

“Iunno I mean. If Akechi’s going there couldn’t we just hang out? I mean that’s how Ann came into the palace the first time.”

“Yeah!” Ann’s hands go to her cheeks. “Ryuji good thinking!”

Sae holds her hand up. “You can’t just hang around the Diet Building.”

“But we can track Akechi’s phone.” Futaba reminds her. “We’ll stay in a cafe nearby and the next time he heads to Nagatacho we’ll go too.”

“Please keep working on that keyword in the meantime.” Sae pleads.

Futaba laughs. “That ‘black and white monster’ really spooked you huh? Don’t worry we can take him if need be.” She winces, “maybe not when he has Akira.”

They all go quiet.

“Futaba please.” Ann says, hugging her. “You said you had to wait until we were all together to tell us so here we are.”

Futaba turns her laptop around to show everyone. “This is the tracking record on Akechi’s phone. At night it went in a very specific pattern for about ten minutes.”

Clicking around, Futaba pulls up the record for ten at night. The record shows the phone moving in a pattern that spells out a very small ‘OK’.

“This happened for two nights in a row.” Futaba takes Akira’s phone out of her pocket, undoes his lock and pulls up YouTube in a matter of seconds. “During that time his YouTube and niconico history also updated.” 

Futaba falls silent again so Sae takes the initiative. “Presumably the activity ceased because Akechi found ‘I’m trapped but I’m okay’ in his search history.” She says staring at the screen. “Honestly I’m surprised he wasn’t arrested sooner.”

“Yeah he makes really bad decisions sometimes.” Makoto says with a tired sigh. “However I don’t think Akechi would kill Akira in his apartment just for that.” 

“Yes,” Sae affirms. “I’m just surprised that Akira’s so spacey.”

“He’s like a cat,” Futaba says. “Y’know when cats get really focused on something and they fall off of things or freak out when you surprise them.”

“A cat.” Sae says, the thought sticking in her mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven’t decided how wild this is gonna get because I can’t just be driving the train off the cliff into hell every time. Or I can be i don’t know. I’ve lost control of this I’m trying to not make it horrible BL times but here we are.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life's good when you have something everyone else wants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I headcanon Akechi as the type that would LOVE being a heel once he came to terms with not being a hero. I've lost control of where this fic is going. Not that I had any before.

Another day and Goro finds himself at the police station's canteen. He hadn't expected everything to simply end after the twentieth, but it was always a bit jarring whenever he was called in for actual work.

Then again there weren't that many people who knew he was a plant. So here he is.

“Morning Akechi,” Sae says coolly. 

“Good morning Sae,” he greets in turn, flashing that winning smile.

“You’re here for a while helping the department right?” Sae sets her tray on the table and sits across from him. “Let’s go for sushi belt tomorrow, my treat.”

“Oh my. Prosecutor Niijima what’s the occasion?” Hand over mouth, eye smile, good-natured laugh.

Sae’s stare bores into him. “Tell Akira he’s invited as well.”

That gets a proper laugh out of Goro, “I’m afraid he’s a bit tied up.”

“That’s unfortunate.” 

They both take lunch boxes out of their briefcases.

“You’ve taken up cooking?” Sae asks. 

No he hasn’t. He also should really stop accepting these lunches from Akira, should be more careful in general. At least check for razors or poison.

Goro can’t say he’d mind those.

He takes the lid off the box to reveal vegetables and seaweed arranged to look like birds. On the fried rice is ‘Goro’ and his mask doodled out in ketchup. 

“Ah,” Sae says then turns back to her own lunch box. “That a present from a fan?”

“Absolutely not,” Goro snorts.

Sae hums but doesn’t push the matter. “Akira hasn’t reported to his probation officer for a while.” 

“I’m sure the relevant authorities are aware of his situation.” Goro counters cheerfully, leaping for the chance to avoid talking about his kiddy lunch. Perhaps it’s a trick of the light but he’s pretty sure he sees Sae’s eye twitch.

Life is good without the Phantom Thieves, Goro decides. This is the most fun he’s had in years. Without no one opposing him in the popularity polls he has free reign to be as passively horrible as he wants.

He snaps into his boxed lunch, has half a mind to post it on his blog before remembering Akira doesn’t have access to social media at the moment.

***

“So you believe Akira to still be in Akechi’s apartment?”

“Yes.” Sae says.

All the thieves look up at her.

“Um… Sis how come?” Makoto asks.

Sae thinks back to their conversation, Akechi’s boxed lunch. How they might feel about their leader’s situation and that he’s caring for Akechi to some degree. How she feels about that.

“Just a hunch,” she says.

Morgana meows loudly and curls up on Haru’s lap.

“He says that Akechi’s apartment is too high to scout.” Makoto explains to her.

Sae frowns. “They control the police department, even if I could find an excuse they’ll crush any warrant to search his flat.”

Right then Futaba starts cackling behind her laptop, the cafe lights glinting menacingly off her glasses. 

That had been a few days ago. Today Sae finds herself in Leblanc with the thieves once again. Apparently Wakaba’s daughter has come up with something.

By the time she and Makoto reach Leblanc the other thieves have already gathered in a booth. The TV is on.

“Miss Niijima,” Futaba sings.

“Yes?” Sae says.

“You know that TV show that tours people’s houses? So Akechi’s agent called him some time ago saying that the network wanted him on the show and Akechi was really against it,” Futaba explains, looking up at her expectantly.

Then Futaba laughs, “so I gave him a little push.” 

Turning the laptop around it’s open to the network’s homepage. At the top of the page is a poll for who should be on the home tour show next.

Akechi leads the poll by a gargantuan margin.

It’s a taste of the Conspiracy’s own tactics thrown back at them, Sae has to hand it to Futaba. 

Futaba smirks. “So his agent called again and wouldn’t leave him alone until he agreed to let the TV crew into his apartment.”

“Sounds about right,” Ann says making a face.

“Anyway he’s only been to Nagatacho since his agent told him he’s going on the show. So he’s either stashed Akira in his house or-“

“The chances of Akechi hiding a young adult in the diet building or courthouse are very low,” Sae says outright.

“You’ve been to his house before haven’t you?” Yusuke asks. “Can you think of where he’d be able to hide Akira?”

“The usual places,” Sae answers. “Closet, maybe disguising him on the balcony? There’s a space under his bed but it’d be really difficult to get Akira in or out of it without his consent.”

Yusuke nods. “Either way let’s keep an eye out.”

“The show’s about to start!” Haru announces.

They sit back to face the TV. Futaba opens a tab with a video feed and chat.

“Wait this is live?” Sae says incredulously. 

“Yeah,” Ryuji responds. “They have a person watching the chat and sometimes they’ll take requests. I got Mishima to rally the phansite and Futaba’s got a few hundred bots going.”

The broadcast opens with the hosts standing outside Akechi’s door. They say their greetings before ringing the doorbell.

The spike in tension is palpable as they watch Akechi open the door to let the hosts in. It’s their first time seeing Akechi since the incident she supposes. 

“So our subject today lives by himself in this Tokyo apartment!” The man announces and Sae can see a flash of something dark in Akechi’s expression. When she blinks it’s already gone.

“How fashionable!” The host says immediately clapping his hands together, apparently very adept at reading the mood.

“Boooo your place is quite tidy!” The woman teases. “We heard you were too shy to let us in at first. We thought it’d be really messy.”

“Oh I never let it get too out of hand,” Akechi says good-naturedly. 

The three of them don’t spend long at the door. 

“Akechi you play video games?” The woman calls out from deeper in the living room. 

Akechi’s eyebrows shoot up. “What? My uh, friend set that up.” 

Sae can see him chug on the word ‘friend’.

The cameraman goes deeper into the living room and everyone perks up as the balcony comes into view, then deflates immediately after as there’s nothing but clothes hanging to dry. 

“Those are Shujin uniform trousers,” Makoto says sharply. Sure enough Sae catches a familiar pattern in there.

Futaba types frantically. _‘What friend is leaving their Shujin trousers at ur house huh? Tell us!’_

The chat erupts as Futaba’s bots and Mishima’s phansite loyalists echo her request to identify the owner of the trousers. 

One of the hosts touches her earpiece but otherwise gives no sign she’s heard their demands.

The hosts go through Akechi’s kitchen, which has completely transformed since the last time Sae saw it. Last time she was there she swore he’d never actually set foot in there other than to put away fan presents.

This time she can see wrapping and vegetable peels in the bin. Dishes set to dry on the counter. 

They’re quiet until the hosts and camera go into the bedroom and Futaba starts typing.

_‘Open the closet!’ What’s Akechi’s wardrobe like?’_

Once again the chat is flooded by similar requests and the woman touches the earpiece. This time however she bounds over to the closet. 

“Akechi your fans want to see what’s in the closet, won’t you please indulge them?”

Futaba quickly types _‘bet there’s a body’_ but doesn’t have the bots spam that in the chat.

“Of course,” Akechi says with a smile. All of them groan as he slides the doors open only to reveal uniform clothes, formal wear, and sweater vests.

_‘What’s under the bed?’_ Futaba fires back. _‘High schoolers amirite?wwww’_

The woman bends down and Sae can see Akechi tensing as the woman grabs the edge of the duvet. 

“Ooooh are you keeping something good under here Akechi?”

Akechi wrings his hands. “Ah, no not really.” He can’t face the camera. In her periphery Sae can hear Futaba going ballistic on the keyboard.

“It’s okay you don’t have to get into it.” The woman says with a smile then lets go of the duvet. 

“There must be something under there,” Ryuji yells. “Look at him he clearly wants them to keep out of there.”

Futaba shakes her head. “It’s no use, they saw the request and won’t do it.”

“If Akira was conscious surely they’d be able to hear him struggling? She got really close to the bed,” Ann says.

Sae frowns. “Actually I don’t think he’d even be able to get Akira under there unless he was unconscious.” 

“Oho what’s this?” The male host says and the cameraman turns to face him. “We’ve got a black hair on the pillow,” the man says leering. “Your friend again Akechi?”

“Yup,” Akechi says easily returning to his nonplussed smile. 

“Very close friend of yours it seems Akechi.” 

“They’ve had a rough few days,” Akechi says, laughing politely and covering his mouth. “I couldn’t bear to leave them on the sofa.”

“That bastard.” Ryuji says.

“My my your fans must be jealous.” 

They all slump back in the booth until the crew goes to the bathroom.

“Ah it smells of bleach in here! And what’s this huge tarp?”

That sets off warning bells for all of them.

“Oh my god,” Makoto whispers.

Futaba goes wild on the laptop. _‘Who did you kill? Where is the body?’_ Sae watches as the chat rages out of control. Going from accusations of murder to speculation of who was the victim to deciding it was a member of the phandom before concluding that it was actually the leader of the Phantom Thieves recently reported deceased.

Sae nearly spits out her coffee as the entire chat continuously spams ‘Akechi killed the leader of the Phantom Thieves.’

Somehow reality has hit a level of strange beyond anything Akira told her in that interrogation room or what the thieves have told her since.

Sae puts her coffee down. “It doesn’t look like Akira’s in the apartment.” 

Ann stands up and Ryuji stands with her. “I think we need to talk to Akechi. Let’s go before the trains get really bad and while he’s still tied up with the show.”

“We’ll stay here and monitor his movements, just in case he goes somewhere after the show ends,” Futaba says. “I’ll message you.”

Ann heads for the door, Ryuji in tow and the cat on their heels.

***

They’d gotten a few messages from Futaba on the journey. Various updates on where Akechi was going, the picture they had now was that Akechi was going to Nagatacho on a bicycle.

‘The bug I have on him isn’t that precise, but I think he’s going to the diet building. Good luck you guys!’

“This isn’t a whole lot to go on,” Ryuji winces.

“C’mon Ryuji not with that attitude!” Morgana hisses, rustling Ann’s bag. 

They get off the train. Ann can’t shake the feeling that they’re on a timer but they can’t just charge into the unknown.

“I hate this station,” she groans. “Which exit should we take?”

“You’re just not that good with the subway,” Ryuji snorts. “It’s this one let’s go.”

When they come up Ann looks around and doesn’t know who’s worse. Ryuji for leading them here or herself for not recognising the way.

“Ryuji this is the courthouse!” 

“Sorry,” he says, sheepishly scratching the back of his head. “My legs just kinda went by themselves ya know.”

“Guys hide!” Morgana whispers just loud enough for them to hear. 

They duck into a large crowd. Ann looks around and she sees what Morgana may have been bothered by.

It’s Goro Akechi sure enough, not long after the broadcast, chaining his bike outside of the station.

“I thought he’d park closer to the Diet building. It’s a bit of a walk,” she muses. She watches as he pulls out his phone and then it hits her. “Hey you don’t think he’s going to the Metaverse is he?”

“No way,” Ryuji says. “Dammit lemme text ma.” 

“Ryuji hurry!” Ann’s already taking off after Akechi. What palace could there be around here?

Was he going to trigger another shut down?

They follow Akechi down the street and around the corner until he’s standing across the street from the court house. He glances around before tapping at his phone.

“Now!” Ann says and they creep closer to Akechi.

When the world around them stops rippling Ann gasps. 

“The casino!?” Ann gasps. “How…?” 

Unfortunately they’ve spawned fairly close behind Akechi who turns to face them. 

“Hello,” he says smiling widely. “Long time no see.”

“Where’s Joker!?” Ryuji shouts and Ann lightly smacks his arm. 

“Skull he’s not just gonna tell us.”

They’re still in their civilian clothes while Akechi has his crow outfit on. While it’s nice that Sae doesn’t see them as a threat anymore it also hinders them. 

Akechi laughs as they squabble. “Oh I wouldn’t bother worrying about him.” He turns and begins to walk away. “Ta ta thieves!”

Before they can give chase Robin Hood appears before them and draws his bow.

“Mona!” Ann shouts. 

“I can’t summon mine either! We have to go.”

Ann doesn’t know who but either Ryuji or Morgana pulls them all out of Sae’s palace. For a while they stay like that, sitting on the steps of the building across from the court house.

Ann puffs her cheeks. “This is gonna sound weird, but I think Akira’s been a good influence on him you know?” 

“Yeah I get you,” Ryuji says just as glum.

“What on earth are you two talking about!?” Morgana screeches, Ann just pats his head in response.

**Author's Note:**

> My understanding of The Twist of P5 is extremely shaky and I’m taking a TON of liberties here >< Comments are always appreciated but would b particularly appreciated here since this is difficult and I’m not completely certain where this ride is going. If u got something u wanna see maybe shoot me a lil somethin somethin closed mouths don’t get fed ayyyyyyy


End file.
